


[tangled in the bones of this love]

by incoherenttruth



Series: psych0's robin party [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics)
Genre: Damian is Prince Arthur, Jon is the unfortunate Merlin, M/M, Merlin AU, Metas are outlawed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 19:10:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15647130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incoherenttruth/pseuds/incoherenttruth
Summary: “You’re-“ Rather than becoming irritated, Timothy’s face softens. The grin slips off, leaving only a sympathetic expression. “You’re in love with him.”“Please don’t tell Dami.” Jon says, and he knows he looks as pathetic as he sounds.”Please.”





	[tangled in the bones of this love]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [psych0tastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psych0tastic/gifts).



“I’m a me-me-“ The more he tries to continue, the higher Damian’s brow go, and the stronger his the unspoken _explain yourself and your idiocy_ aura surrounding him seems to grow. Jon feels himself shrinking. “Me-ale.”

 

“Yes.” Damian says, slowly as though speaking to someone particularly slow. “I can see that.”

 

Jon gives up on his confession. “Shall I clear your plates Damian?”

 

Damian gives a dismissive wave. Jon rolls his eyes, but not before he makes sure that he’s out of Damian’s line of sight.

 

+

 

There is a dragon.  Right underneath Batman’s castle and the “no metas or magic” rule.

 

There is a talking dragon underneath the castle. Jon clings to the wall, his fingers digging into the fine granite of it. 

 

“Mister erm… Red Hood?”

 

“Just kidding kid. Call me Jason.” By Rao, those teeth. The size of his teal eye, is bigger than the entire of Jon’s head. 

 

“Okay, erm Jason sir.”

 

The sound of the chains are terrible, making Jon’s bones and teeth rattle. Jason settles his wings, folding them along his bulk but it does nothing for his massive size. Despite his apparent good humour, Jon is hyper aware of the wicked looking claws. 

 

Something, some instinct of a sort warns him that humour is mercurial, to tread carefully.

 

“Tell me, has Bruce allowed metas in?”

 

Jon gulps. “How did you know?”

 

Jason bares all his teeth in a grin. “You hear me, through layers and layers of stone in the belly of Batman’s castle. If you’re not a meta, what else can you be?”

 

“Are you going to eat me?”

 

Snorting, Jason tosses his head. His red scales catch the dim light of Jon’s torch. “I haven’t needed to eat since the Joker bashed my brain in with a crowbar and laid me this curse. Think good old Batman will come down and put me out of my misery?”

 

“Batman doesn’t kill.”

 

All at once, Jason’s good humour dissipates, and the growl from his throat makes the back of Jon’s neck stand. “I noticed. If he killed the Joker, I’ll won’t still be a ten feet monstrosity of scales and teeth.”

 

Jon stares, because his mouth is completely dry and he doesn’t know what to say that won’t get him snapped in two.

 

Jason blinks, and turns his head away. “Tell me about Robin.”

 

“Robin?” 

 

“What do they say abut Robin? Do they think that I died with-“ He makes this rattling snarl again. “Did Batman-“

 

Oh. 

 

Joker- Jason-

 

This is Damian’s brother. 

 

_This is Damian’s brother._

 

_“_ You’re Jason?” Jon’s voice goes high in excitement, ending in a squeak and he finds himself floating a bit off the ground. “You’re Jason! I’m going to bring Bruce here immediately! Damian can finally meet you and stop talking to your robin outfit and Dick will stop fighting with-“

 

“Wait, slow down. Bruce is looking for me?” There’s a hesitant hope in Jason’s voice that stops Jon right there in his tracks, pops his happiness like a soap bubble, gone and without a trace that it was even there to begin with. 

 

South of the castle, there is a collection of graves. All the Waynes have been buried there, but there’s a gravestone that reads Jason Todd. When Dick comes home, there are always fresh flowers. Once a year, Bruce goes there, and he takes no one with him but Cassandra. Not even Damian, not even Dick, not even Alfred.

 

Helplessly, Jon says. “He thinks you’re dead.”  

 

There’s a wildness to Jason’s movements that reminds Jon of a wounded animal. “And Damian? Who is he?”

 

Jon panics. Where to begin with Damian? Damian that is kind to animals and ruthless and an almost desperate streak to prove himself? Pushing himself again and again, training in the middle of the night until dawn and turning up for council soon after. 

 

“Damian’s Robin.”

 

And that is when Jon finds out, that Jason can breathe fire.

 

+

 

“There’s a dragon trying to kill me!” Crashing through the window in a hurry, Jon breaks his landing on the table, sending a washbasin and several flasks crashing.

 

“You look quite Kathy folds her arm and glares at Jon. “Then die somewhere away from my workstation. The people of Gotham are hardly going to cure themselves.”

 

+

 

He spends his time tidying Damian’s chambers, anything to take his mind off the sound Jason made when he heard that he was replaced. His eyebrows still sting from the singe of how close he came to becoming the next roast for dinner. 

 

“This is a surprise.” Damian says, tossing his shirt haphazardly onto the floor as he enters his champers. He pauses, with all that brown skin on display, his muscles drawn taut and glistening. Jon forces himself to swallow, his mouth desert dry. Titus pants happily where he’s stopped with his tail beating a steady rhythm against Damian’s legs.

 

“I had a bit of time-“ Jon says wringing his hands.

 

“This is the neatest I have seen my sheets.” Damian prods at the fireplace, turning over the empty dust at the bottom. At his permissive wave, Titus bounds up to Jon, closing his eyes as Jon pats his head.

 

“Hi boy, how have you been today?” He rubs his hands over Titus’ sleek fur. Its’s the reason why he’s completely taken by surprise when Damian grabs his chin, forcing him to meet that arresting gaze.

 

“What happened Jon?” Damian asks, his voice soft. Jon can only look into his eyes, fall upwards into them in that green gold all framed by that ridiculously thick set of lashes. Jon can feel the heat emitting from Damian’s body. Trace the line of corded muscle down his thick arms, smell the sweet scent of sweat, close enough he can taste the salt on his tongue. Any minute and he will go down onto his knees, completely gone head over heels-

 

The door slams open.

 

Jon didn’t realise how much he was depending on Damian to hold him up, and at the loss of his grip, fell backward onto his butt.

 

“Maya!”

 

The culprit only raises a brow. “Sorry to interrupt, but Damian, King Bruce is asking for you.” Titus bounds up to her, and at her invitation to put his paws on her shoulders, licks her face. He never licked Jon’s face that enthusiastically before.

 

Jon does not pout.

 

Maya tugs on Damian’s arms, manhandling him into a shirt. “Come on.” Damian makes only a half hearted noise of complaint, and all that revealed skin is hidden up again. 

 

Jon absolutely does not pout. 

 

+

 

“Timothy,” Damian greets, a pleased smile despite his his harsh words. “You look wasted as usual.”

 

“Hello to you too demonspawn.” They clasps forearm, both of them baring their teeth in a grin. Jon rolls his eyes at Damian’s posturing.

 

“Who’s this?” Timothy, one of Damian’s many brothers, turns his gaze onto Damian. His face is expressionless, smoothed out, but Jon feels a warning chill go down his back, splayed open to his gaze like a pinned butterfly.

 

“His name is Jon and he hails from Metropolis.” Damian waves an encompassing hand. “Hopeless at being a manservant, but I wouldn’t inflict him on anyone else. A harpy like you might strangle him on a bad day.”

 

“Hmm, maybe use him for target practice.”

 

“Hang him from the battlements.”

 

“Make him clean the torture chambers.” 

 

Jon eeps.

 

+

 

“He looks like someone I know.” Timothy drops casually.   

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. His name is Connor Kent.”

 

Jon misses a step. He trips down the steps, with the bags tumbling over his head, only to roll to a stop at the very bottom.

 

Damian looks at him the way one would a puppy that asks for attention after it has rolled in its own waste. Indulgent and with an unspoken “pathetic” tacked on. Timothy watches him knowing eyes.

 

“Jon? What did you say your surname was again?”

 

“El.” Jon says weakly. “Jon-El.” 

 

“Can’t say I know.” Timothy continues, but that arch of his eyebrow tells Jon his ruse is up.

 

+

 

“What do you have planned with Damian?” Timothy is small in bulk, but that threatening aura of his is enough to back Jon to the wall. The corridor is empty, which just means that no one would see Timothy murder him. “Did you think I would not know who you are Jonathan Samuel Kent?”

 

“Please don’t tell Dami!”

 

Timothy searches his face, before backing away, breaking into a smile. “Just messing with you. Kon always talks about you after he’s been back home. His little brother.”

 

“So you’re not going to tell Damian?” Jon says hopefully.

 

“I’ll keep your secret.” Petting him on the head, Tim continues to smile. “Sides, keeping a secret from the demonspawn? I’m here for that.”

 

“Don’t call him that,” Jon blurts out, then covers his mouth. it doesn’t make sense, Damian and him have hurled worse insults at each other, but when the whole court watches Damian and handles him like a particularly volatile beast that’s likely to bite, it grates on Jon. “I’m sorry-“

 

“You’re-“ Rather than becoming irritated, Timothy’s face softens. The grin slips off, leaving only a sympathetic expression. “You’re in love with him.”

 

“Please don’t tell Dami.” Jon says, and he knows he looks as pathetic as he sounds.”Please.”

 

“Tell Dami what?” Damian says, startling Jon into pushing Timothy away. “Bullying the help Timothy? That surely is beneath your wiles.”

 

“Ooh? Worried that I’ll steal him away?” Timothy flutters his lashes at Damian who only sneers in disgust. 

 

“Hardly.” But Damian shoves past him all the same to manhandle Jon, tugging him with him. “Come Jon, if you have time to flirt with Timothy, you have time to polish my weapons.”

 

“It’ll be our little secret, Jon.” Timothy winks, only for Damian to give him a wordless snarl of rage. “Okay, I’m leaving, I’m leaving. But here’s a hint Damian, Jon would love to polish something else-“

 

“Your boots!” Jon yells loudly. “I would love to polish your boots D!”

 

“Well,” Damian says menacingly. “Make sure you polish all of it well.”

 

Timothy laughs hard enough Jon thinks he has to bring him to Kathy.

+ 

 

Some day in the future, neither near nor far, after Jason has had a fiery and tearful reunion with Bruce, Jon picks up the courage to kiss Damian’s sleeping face. Just a reverent press of his lips to the soft corner of his mouth.

 

Except Damian won’t be sleeping. He would have been awake the moment Jon cracks open his window for his nightly check in, lying in wake like those exotic cats from far away land.

 

He would flip Jon around, press him close and kiss him for real this time. Jon would entwine his limbs around Damian, cradling him as physically near as possible as they kiss all fervent and messy. 

 

Then Jon will realise that they’re floating, yell and send them both crashing down but still, Damian just tugs at his hair and kisses him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> And that concludes psych0's birthday party! Happy birthday to my dearest and I hope you enjoyed yourself!
> 
> If you're familiar with Merlin as well, see if you guessed them all right!  
> Bruce is King Uther  
> Dick is Leon  
> Kathy is Gaius  
> Tim is Morgana


End file.
